


Snowfall and Silver Glimmers

by KuroJanKazu



Category: Gravity Falls, Reverse Falls - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-17 22:50:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13087068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuroJanKazu/pseuds/KuroJanKazu
Summary: In a clearing surrounded by towering redwood trees stands a humble cottage constructed in a mix of masonry and lumber. In it there are two modest, separate rooms on the first floor adjoining a living room that shares the space with a simple kitchen, and overlooking it is a small study atop. The cabin has seen the remnants of one blooming spring and the passing of a summer and a fall. Winter time has arrived, and in the absence of flowers there is snow, marking nearly a year since Ford and Will have been sharing a home. After a long session of research and subsequent writing that had taken him into the late hours of the night, Ford awakes to the sound of Christmas music.*** Note: This story does not take place in the same narrative as "Reminiscence at Sea."





	Snowfall and Silver Glimmers

~ • ~

           It took a moment for Ford to convince his eyes to open through the lingering sleep. He yawned and stretched, laying his hands next to him on the bed. The spot beside him was empty, and now Ford noticed the soft Christmas music playing outside of the room. He chuckled. Will had woken up before him.

            Will had always been an early riser, out of bed before 6:00 A.M. every day, except on the days Ford would wake at the same time as Will, and they would remain in bed just talking, close enough to feel each other’s breath. Those days were rare, as Ford usually went to sleep late at night. Ford sat himself up on the bed, yawning again and rubbing his eyes before putting on his glasses.

            Even though he had them on, he could not see much of his room, as barely any light filtered through the group of trees not too far from his window, now covered in snow. Ford stood up, dragging his feet towards his bedroom door and opened it to see Will standing on the tips of his toes returning a book to one of the highest shelves of the book case in their small living room.

            Will looked his way and smiled. “Merry Christmas,” he said.

            “Merry Christmas,” Ford said. “Do you need help?”

            “Yes, please,” Will said in a shy voice.

            Ford walked over to him, and Will handed him three books and pointed to the second to top shelf. Ford returned the books to their spot as Will placed two back on one of the lower shelves. Ford recognized all of these books as his own and felt a bit guilty.

            “I apologize. I should have put these back where they belong before going to sleep,” Ford said, turning to face him.

            “No worries,” Will said sweetly, “I’m sure you were very tired.”

            Ford sighed. “Still, they were my responsibility. If you see I have left some books around in the future, please tell me when I wake up, and I’ll put them back.”

            “Alright. Oh, are you hungry?”

            “A bit,” Ford admitted with a slightly embarrassed smile.

            Will giggled and turned to walk to the kitchen. “I was going to wake you once I finished making breakfast for you, so the food isn’t ready yet, but the hot cocoa is. Would you like some?”

            “Yes, please,” Ford said and took a seat at the kitchen counter. Will served him a cup of hot cocoa, and Ford thanked him.

            Ford’s eyes wandered around the room. Their cozy little cottage, the home they had built together…with some help from the resident lumberjacks, of course; it was small, with only two separate rooms on the first floor and a small study that overlooked the living room on the second. Their living room had very little space, but they made the most of it.

            On the left side of the wall opposite to the open kitchen, close to the corner was their small entryway with a thin coat rack and a shelf on top on the left of the door frame, and hanging on it were their winter jackets. There was a welcome mat with patterns of flowers placed in front of the maroon-colored wooden door. On the right of it there was a window, and in front of it, a square dinner table with a glass candle centerpiece and only two chairs.

             Next to the table was their stone fireplace, and in the little space between them now stood a Christmas tree they had decorated together with lights and a few, simple ornaments. The fireplace was also decorated, with a garland and two stockings that hung from its mantle.

            It was at the small sofa in front of the fireplace where they spent the most time together. They had even accidentally fallen asleep there once or twice, close together and in a bundle of blankets. On the right of the fire place there was another window and on the wall meeting it, two book cases that had yet to be filled entirely. Will was near that window constantly; it was framed all around with plants, some hanging, others on the base of the window and a few on stools.

            Ford remembered a certain morning in spring when he found Will sitting on the floor, his back resting against the wall. He was reading one of his favorite books of poetry. The plants had newly bloomed with delicate, light colored flowers, and soft sunlight shone on him through the window. It was a beautiful image that had stopped Ford in his tracks as he decided whether he should join him or get his sketchbook. It was then that Will had looked up and smiled, a smile of overwhelming sweetness that always seemed to leave Ford breathless, and before he had noticed, he was already sitting at Will’s side.

            The sounds of metal and ceramic hitting the sink and the opening and closing of the pantry and cabinet doors brought him back to the present moment, but something seemed…odd. Ford couldn’t see Will’s face, but his movements were hurried and abrupt.

            “Is…everything alright, Will?” Ford asked.

            Will took a moment to respond, “um…yes.” He sounded unsure of his answer.

            Ford joined his eyebrows, “do you…need any help?”

            “No, no, its fine,” Will said while fetching two small measuring bowls and a piping bag from the fridge. He brought them in front of himself on the counter, and Ford couldn’t see what he was doing.

            Ford kept quiet now, trying to decipher why Will was acting strangely. Now Will had taken a deep breath and exhaled before bringing the plate and placing it in front of Ford along with a small pitcher of syrup.

             “Thank you,” Ford said, and when he looked up he saw Will had covered his face with his hands. Before Ford had said anything, Will had spoken.

            “They were supposed to look like Christmas trees,” Will said, still with his face hidden.

            Ford looked downwards to see that, though Will had succeeded in the decoration with lines of whipped cream and colorful chocolate buttons, the pancakes themselves looked more like the hazy idea of a cartoonish Christmas tree, lopsided and crookedly outlined. Ford knew Will wasn’t much of an artist, but the turnout of the pancakes had more to do with a lack of proper utensils than it did with artistic ability.

            “Oh,” was all that Ford had managed to say.

            “They don’t look like trees at all.” Will’s words were followed by a disappointed sigh.

            “No, I can definitely see the Christmas trees,” Ford said tilting his head and squinting his eyes. He looked up to see Will blushing from embarrassment. “I absolutely love them, Will. Thank you.”  Ford smiled.

            “But you haven’t tried them yet,” Will didn’t sound convinced.

            “Well, if you want to be sure,” Ford said before taking a bite of the pancakes. They were delicious and made of a dark chocolate and peppermint batter, but for the sake of making Will laugh he made an exaggeratedly thoughtful face, putting a hand on his own chin and then lifted an index finger as if he had found the answer. “They are!” With that, Will had started laughing, covering his mouth with his hand. Ford joined in on his laughter.

            “Would you like some more?” Will said, gesturing at Ford’s cup.

            Ford nodded. Will refilled Ford’s cup and placed it in front of him once again. It was then that Ford noticed the small, red lines on Will’s ring finger.

            “Let me see your hand,” Ford said, and Will placed it on the counter. Ford held it, careful not to touch the skin around the burn marks that had swollen up slightly. He let out a breath of concern.

            “They’re not serious and barely even hurt,” Will said, caressing Ford’s cheek, “nothing to worry about.” And with that, Will left the kitchen.

 

º º º

            After Ford had finished his meal and washed the dishes, he went to stand next to Will in front of the window by the book cases. Will appeared to be lost in thought, observing with sad eyes the snow mounds that now covered his outdoor garden.

            “I miss the flowers,” Will said in a quiet voice.

            Ford held his hand and said, “spring will come soon.”

            Will looked at him with a sad smile before letting go of his hand and moving to examine closer the flower-less plants that framed the window. Ford felt a heavy heart.

            Determined to distract him from the gloom, Ford said, “Will, I must ask you something very important. The fate of what will happen in the next few moments depends on your answer.”

             “What is it?” Will turned to him in an instant.

            Ford smiled, feeling his own cheeks redden. “May I kiss you?”

            Will blushed in response. “Yes, you may,” he laughed lightly and stepped closer to Ford, placing a hand on his chest. Ford leaned in.

            Their kiss was gentle and loving, though brief and timid; they were still too shy to do anything more passionate, despite having lived together nearly a year. The embrace that followed seemed as intimate as the kiss, and in silence they both treasured the warmth and comfort they had in each other.

            Will had slightly parted away from Ford, looking at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall “It’s the afternoon now,” he said, then looked back at Ford. “Shouldn’t you be in your study?”

            “Not today, it’s Christmas. I want to spend the whole day by your side.” Ford smiled. “If you’d like me to, that is.”

            “Of course I would,” Will said, jumping into Ford’s arms.

            Ford had been taken by surprise, but he had caught him and took a step back to make room enough to spin Will around. He could hear Will laugh and felt him hold tighter.

            “Very well then, we could do some activities,” Ford said when they had stopped spinning.  
“What would you like to do?”

            Will, still in his arms, replied, “could we go ice skating?”

            “If that is what you want.” Ford set Will carefully on the floor.

            Will gave Ford a small kiss on his cheek before disappearing into the bedroom to change. It did not take long for him to do so and step back out into the living room wearing a base layer of clothing, handing Ford his set of clothes. After he had changed, he joined Will by the front door; he was already done putting on his coat and outer layers of clothing. Ford did the same, and carrying their skates, they left to make their way down to the frozen lake. Before they had gone too far, Ford noticed Will had stopped to look back at the spot where his garden would have been had it not been covered in snow.

            “Will,” Ford called, extending his hand towards him. Ford saw Will turn his way, and after a few slow steps, he took his hand.

            They walked down a trail to the frozen lake where most of the town families were already skating. Ford and Will sat at a wooden bench table to put on their skates, the same wooden bench they had claimed most of the summer because of its perfect view of the water and the tree line and mountain peaks beyond it.

            Ford had only just finished tying his skates when Will had effortlessly stepped on the ice. He glided a few feet forwards and stood waiting for him. Ford was hesitant to follow, and Will had noticed.

            “Do you remember how to step on? It’s alright if you don’t,” Will said kindly. Ford’s look of uncertainty answered for him. Will glided closer and gave Ford a hand to help him. “Take both steps sideways,” he heard Will say. Ford kept his eyes on the ice and after a moment did as Will said. Once he was on the ice and had found his balance, Will let go of his hand. “You’re doing great,” Will said happily. He continued his instructions, “now arms out, core tight, knees over your toes, and push off the inside of your blade with your right foot,” he demonstrated. Ford copied him, and to his delight found himself gliding. “Now do the same with your left,” he heard Will say. After a while of practicing it became easier to do, and soon they were skating among the crowd.

            They skated alongside each other for what felt like a short time, but had really been hours. Most of the townspeople there had gone, and now Will took advantage of the space they had left to figure skate. Though Will was no expert, his small jumps and spins were still elegant and lovely. Ford found it mesmerizing.

            Because of it, Ford had slipped and fallen back. He had sat himself up and was laughing when he heard the sharp stop of skates on the ice next to him. Will’s eyes were worried as he checked to make sure Ford wasn’t bleeding or injured.

            “I’m fine,” Ford said amidst laughter, “I knew it would happen sooner or later.”

            Will gave a sigh of relief, and laughed along with him. He hugged Ford tightly and afterwards helped him stand. At that moment, they both noticed it had started to snow.

 

º º º

            They arrived home just before night fall and stepped into their cabin. Though Ford had been able to easily remove his jacket and place it on the coat hanger next to the doorway, the small buckles of his mittens were proving to be difficult. Will was quick to notice Ford’s struggle.

            “Here, let me help,” Will said, unbuckling the mittens and giving them a slight tug to pull them off. He put them along with his own in a small basket on the shelf above the coat rack. Afterwards Will had taken Ford’s hands in his and given them a small kiss. Ford had kissed Will’s forehead in return.

            “I’ll go change first,” Will said.

            Ford nodded, letting go of Will’s hand, and Will made his way through the living room. Ford sighed and chuckled to himself. He noticed the air inside the cabin felt a bit cold. The fire was down to a few small flames, softly crackling. He picked a couple of logs from the metal rack next to the fireplace and carefully placed them in what was left of the fire. Ford heard the bedroom door open and close.

            Will now wore a dark blue sweater with cascading patterns of silver glimmers. It resembled a night sky covered in stardust. Ford was at a loss of words.

            “I thought we should wear the sweaters your niece sent us since today is Christmas.” Will spun once to give Ford a better look of it. “Isn’t it pretty?”

            Ford, who was still in awe, could only whisper the word “beautiful” under his breath. He saw Will tilt his head, and only then did he realize he had been staring. Ford adjusted his glasses, looking elsewhere and cleared his throat.

            “Yes. I- I’ll go change now,” Ford said and walked to the bedroom trying his best to avoid eye contact with Will.

            Once inside, Ford exhaled loudly, He hoped he hadn’t made too much of a fool of himself to Will, then again, things of this sort happened more often than not.

            Ford remembered an afternoon not too long after they had started living together. He had sat on the porch to read while Will was tending to his—at the time—very small garden. Ford, though he had tried very hard to concentrate on his reading, would sometimes catch himself stealing glances of Will.

            On one occasion Will had seen him. Ford had, perhaps too obviously, tried to act like it hadn’t happened and averted his eyes to his book. His embarrassment grew into a panic when he heard Will’s footsteps on the wooden floor of the porch, coming towards him. He stopped in front of him only to place a single wildflower on the open pages of his book. It had five petals of light blue merging to white in the center. Later he learned these flowers were called “baby blue eyes.”

            Ford smiled at the memory and now unfolded the neat set of clothing Will had lain for him on the bed. He chuckled at the sight of his sweater. Of course this was the design Mabel had chosen for him. The sweater was red, a shade similar to his old turtleneck, but more vibrant. It had the periodic table in the form of a Christmas tree in the center with cartoonish designs of beakers sewn at either side. The words “Oh Chemistree” had been embroidered above and below the Christmas tree. It was astonishing how much her craftsmanship had improved.

            After changing into his new set of clothing and exiting the bedroom, he found Will in the kitchen with his apron on and the sleeves of his sweater rolled up. The casserole dish with garlic and rosemary mashed potatoes and the baking pan with two stuffed Cornish game hens that Will had prepared in the morning were on the countertop. The oven door was open, and Will had a hand over the burn marks he had gotten earlier in the day.

            “Could you put those in the oven for me?” Will said.

            Ford did so and closed the oven door. He walked closer to Will who was setting a timer for the food.

            “Did you burn your hand again?” He asked, concerned.

            “No,” Will answered, “the heat made my finger hurt a bit, but its fine now.” He opened one of the labeled porcelain jars close to the stove and used the measuring spoon inside of it to sprinkle flour on part of the countertop in front of him.

            “What are you making now?” Ford asked, curious.

            “Gingerbread cookies,” Will said and got a disk of wrapped cookie dough out of the refrigerator. “Would you like to help?”

            “Of course,” Ford said and fetched the rolling pin he knew Will would need next and handed it to him. 

            “Thank you,” Will said kindly, “could you get the cookie cutters for me?”

            “What shapes would you like?” Ford said, opening one of the overhead cabinets.

            “The snowflakes and stars, please.”

            Ford handed these to him and washed his hands in the kitchen sink. As Will cut the cookies, Ford helped set them neatly on a lined baking sheet and afterwards placed it in the oven. While the cookies were baking, they made the icing out of lemon juice and powdered sugar, all the while in casual, playful conversation.

            After the cookies had baked and cooled, Will had put Ford in charge of decorating them. As he finished, the timer had rung for the rest of the food, and soon they were sitting for a Christmas meal at their small, candlelit dinner table.

            They were about to start eating when Ford remembered something.

            “Wait,” he said suddenly and ran upstairs to his study in search of two items and brought them downstairs. Will was evidently confused when Ford placed two tubes on the table covered in colorful paper and tied at their edges. “They’re called Christmas Crackers,” Ford explained. “On the Christmas of my second year of college a few of my classmates couldn’t go back home to visit their families, some because of the snow storm and others because they couldn’t afford it. They planned a get-together so that no one would have to spend Christmas day alone. I fully intended to dedicate my night to a research session, but Fiddleford persuaded me to go with him. Truthfully, It was a good day.” Ford adjusted his glasses. “Right before dinner, the foreign exchange students gave each of us one of these.”

          “What do they do?” Will’s confused expression had been replaced with a curious one.

          “Let me show you,” Ford said taking one of them in his hand, “hold one of the edges, and I’ll hold the other” Each did so, and Ford continued speaking. “Now, pull,” and with a loud popping noise, Will had won the contents of the Cracker. He was taken by complete surprise, but was delighted nonetheless.

            A delicate paper crown, a small trinket and a joke had fallen out. Immediately after, they pulled on the second one so that Ford could get his own small prizes. Will put on his own crown and read his joke silently before chuckling to himself.

            “What does it say?” Ford asked, smiling.

            “Did Rudolph go to school?” Will said.

            “I don’t know, did he?” Ford said, humorously  
_“_ No,” Will said. “He was… _elf-taugh_.”

            They both chuckled at it in unison, and after Ford had put his own crown on and read his joke aloud, they ate. When they had finished, they washed the dishes and then sat on the floor next to the Christmas tree and the fireplace to open the gifts they had gotten for each other.

            “You go first,” Will said to Ford with a smile and seemed noticeably exited to see him open the presents.

            Ford picked up the two gifts addressed to him from under the tree. They were expertly wrapped in snowflake-patterned paper and tied together with a beautiful white bow.

            Though both were small, he decided to open the bigger one of both, that by weight felt like an article of clothing, and it was. The first gift was a matching set of a crocheted hat, scarf and gloves, which Will had made by hand with soft, red yarn. He knew they were time-consuming and tedious to make and felt incredibly grateful for them

            “Thank you, Will. These are perfect.”

            “You’re welcome,” he smiled.

            Ford went on to open the other gift. The packet of small vials of ink could seem so insignificant to anyone else, but to him they meant a great deal. They were for an engraved fountain pen his Father had gifted him. It had been with him throughout his college years, and he treasured it dearly to this day. After years of rationing the ink it had left, he had finally run out of it some months ago. He could not find any store that sold them close to him, and everywhere he had been told they were discontinued.

             “How did you find these?”

            “There’s an old art store five towns over. It has a small calligraphy section. The owner said no one had bought them in years.” He laughed lightly.

            “They must have been expensive,” Ford said.

            “No, not that expensive,” Will said, “I saved up a little over time, sold flowers around the town in the afternoons on some days.”

            Will’s garden was precious to him, and Ford felt guilty that he had to sell some of his flowers to get this gift for him. It seemed Will had known what he was thinking because he placed a hand on Ford’s.

            “It’s alright,” Will said, “there were plenty of flowers left, no need to worry about that.”

            “Thank you,” Ford said. As to not let emotion overwhelm him, he said “it’s your turn now.”

            Will smiled and reached for his present, unwrapping it cautiously. Ford heard him gasp, though it was a quiet sound. His gift to Will was an aged and beautifully illustrated three volume collection of Victorian flower language.

            “I love them,” Will said, carefully passing a few of the pages of the first volume. He closed it and brought the books closer to his chest. “Thank you.”

            “I’m happy you like them.” Then he had an idea. “Wait here for a moment.” He stood up and went to the record player, picking from the book case another vinyl for it to play. The first song started, and Ford made his way to Will. He offered him a hand. “May I have this dance?”

            Will had, of course, accepted. They danced, though it was more of a soft swaying, except for the moments when Ford had twirled Will and had in one of these moments brought him back into a kiss. Towards the end of the song, Ford heard Will give a small yawn and felt him nuzzle softly into his chest.

            “Are you tired?” Ford asked in a low voice.

            He felt Will nod and heard him yawn again.

            “Do you want me to carry you to bed?” Ford asked in the same voice as before.

            “ _Mhm_ ,” Will responded faintly and placed his arms around Ford’s neck. Ford carefully lifted him up and walked slowly to their bedroom with Will in his arms.

            “I love you,” he heard Will say.

            Ford smiled, “I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays, Lovelies!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this short ficlet pertaining to what I've affectionately called "The Author and the Florist" AU. This is either an early or very late (I was supposed to have written this last year, woops) Christmas present for gorgeous cosplayers jenniwrenn5 and deatharising, who I am incredibly honored to call my friends.
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
> Now to the two of you (yes you! Helen and Jenna):
> 
> You never cease to amaze me. The amount of love, hard work, and dedication that you put into your cosplays and the content you make has inspired me ever since I started writing about these characters and continues to inspire me every single day. I am so happy that I've gotten to see your channel grow and see how much you both have improved and keep improving. I feel so overwhelmingly proud of you! You are both so incredibly talented and skillful; it makes me want to improve all the more, and not only are you outstanding cosplayers, but you are outstanding people. 
> 
> I wish I could say more about how much I love and appreciate you guys, but I could never put all of my thoughts in order, and there honestly isn't enough space in this little box for me to say it if I did, so I will make it as brief as I can.
> 
> You are two of the kindest, most caring people I know. I met you both when I needed you the most, and I had never come to trust two people so quickly. I am so thankful for your presence in my life; you have made such a vast, positive impact on me that I could never fully explain. Not only that, but I have met such amazing people because of you (especially Kade, I love the three of you so much like you have no idea). Thank you so much for always bringing my spirits up when I'm feeling not so great, for comforting me, for listening to my ramblings, and for making me feel so incredibly loved and appreciated. You both mean the world to me, and I wish nothing but happiness, kindness, and love for you every single day of your life.
> 
> Lots of Love, Sara


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